


starry eyed and nerdified

by haleofStilesheart



Series: Valentine's Day Fic Giveaway (2017) [4]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Awkward Stiles Stilinski, Getting Together, Jock Stiles, Love Letters, M/M, Nerd Derek, Pining Stiles Stilinski
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-26
Updated: 2017-02-26
Packaged: 2018-09-27 00:02:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9935639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/haleofStilesheart/pseuds/haleofStilesheart
Summary: For the past two weeks Stiles has been leaving Derek anonymous love notes. Derek finally guesses who his secret admirer is.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [demisexualhale](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=demisexualhale).



> For the prompt: nerdy!jock!stiles trying to woo nerd!derek for valentines day (as a valentine's day prompt, obviously :p)

Stiles had never really been sure if he could be considered a jock or not.

Because, yeah sure, he was on the lacrosse team and played baseball in his spare time but he was no star athlete. Hell, he spent most of his time during lacrosse games warming the bench and fetching Coach refills of Gatorade.

He had always been into sports, for as long as he could actually remember, really. He had been a devout Mets fan since long before he could even walk, his mom and his dad joking that he had inherited his preference from both of them. He could still remember his dad teasing his mom about it, claiming she had watched too much baseball while pregnant, Stiles born only a few months before the World Series.

Older now, he never missed a game. Not once. Whenever the Mets played, he would dress in his finest blue and orange gear, baseball cap and all, just to firmly plant his butt on the living room couch with a giant bowl of low-fat popcorn in his lap and a bag of Reese’s peanut butter cups in the freezer for later.

Back in elementary school, he and Scott had played Little League together, baseball both a good hobby and a wonderful way to keep them from getting into too much trouble. Stiles took to it like a pig to mud, one of the best pitchers their local division had ever seen, finding his element out on the mound.

Both of his parents would come to every game, his mom taking a break from her work at home and his dad somehow weaseling his way out of doing paperwork just to catch the opening pitch. Without fail, his dad cheered louder than anyone else in the crowd, jumping to his feet and waving his arms around as he proudly proclaimed, “That’s my son!”

When Scott had eventually grown tired of playing in Little League, in part due to his asthma which was being somewhat exacerbated by all of the physical activity and in part because of the fact that baseball was no longer considered cool, Stiles had decided to quit with him. He just hadn’t seen the point of continuing to play if his best friend wasn’t there with him. And besides, it just wasn’t the same without his mom there.

In high school, he still gravitated towards baseball but he had soon developed an affinity for lacrosse after Scott started showing interest in trying out for the team. He had spent hours researching all aspects of the sport, wanting to know exactly what to expect at tryouts. 

With his asthma clearing up a bit and all the confidence of no longer being a virgin thanks to Allison, Scott had managed to snag a highly coveted position on the first line. Meanwhile, Stiles only barely made the team, beating out two other guys who had tried out, owing his victory to pure dumb luck though he barely ever made it onto the field.

It wasn’t that he was bad at lacrosse per se, he was actually pretty good. His leanly muscled body was built for speed and agility, making him a wonderful prospect. He just had a tendency to trip over his own feet. And other people’s feet. And grass and rocks and, at times, even thin air.

So, while he could run suicides and drills with the very best of them, giving the team captain, Jackson, a run for his money, he was usually stuck on the bench during games, just watching his teammates play. His dad still came to all of his games, though he didn’t understand why.

But while there was some question about whether or not he was a jock, there was no dispute whatsoever over the fact that he fell victim to some of the most stereotypical jock tropes. Namely, falling for a nerd.

But not just any nerd. No, that would be too easy. He had fallen for the king of nerds. Derek freaking Hale. The epitome of a high school nerd.

He was extremely intelligent, more often than not threatening to beat Stiles out for the highly esteemed title of valedictorian, always maintaining a more than perfect GPA. One of his favorite pastimes was reading, rarely ever seen without his nose buried in a book, very clearly preferring the classics over contemporary novels.

But he wasn’t just book smart, he was geeky smart, too. He could quote nearly every episode of Star Trek, both the original and Next Generation, without breaking a sweat. He could spout off all sorts of fun facts and trivia questions about the Lord of the Rings and the Silmarillion. For god’s sake, he could recite poetry in Wookie!

And he wasn’t at all shy about letting his nerd flag fly, wearing Marvel and DC t-shirts to school almost as often as Stiles did himself, favoring DC over Marvel just like Stiles. He even had an adorable little Superman keychain which was quite possibly the cutest thing Stiles had ever seen.

He was pretty sure he had officially fallen in love when Derek gave a presentation in their AP English class which focused primarily on comparing none other than Batman to Beowulf. Because anyone who cared about Batman as much as he did was most definitely a keeper in Stiles’ book.

So, with Valentine’s Day of their senior year fast approaching, he had finally decided to make a move. Of course, he wasn’t so bold as to be very upfront about it, instead taking a more subtle route, slipping little love notes and nerdy Valentine’s pick-up lines into Derek’s locker.

Every morning, Stiles would get to school early, making sure to beat Derek to their lockers which were fortuitously, and quite conveniently, right next to each other, not wanting to get caught. Starting February first, Stiles would slip a new note into the louvers of Derek’s locker, leaving them for Derek to find once he came in.

The nights before dropping off the notes, he would spend hours hunched over at the desk in his bedroom, drawing little doodles and caricatures to go along with the admittedly lame puns he hand wrote, always gearing them towards Derek’s more nerdy interests. He just hoped that Derek would recognize his handwriting, never in fact actually his name.

Because while he and Derek weren’t exactly what one could consider friends, they were definitely on friendly enough terms, more like acquaintances than anything else. They would talk occasionally in their shared classes or by their adjacent lockers, waving at each other in greeting when they passed one another in the hallway.

And Stiles didn’t want to risk ruining what they already had with his grand illusions of what they could possibly have. Not that he really thought that he had much of a chance with Derek in the first place.

Derek was sweet and kind where Stiles could be abrasive and a bit of an asshole. He was shy and selfless where Stiles could be overconfident and at time selfish. He was like a ray of sunshine in human form while Stiles was more like a human trash can, at least in his own mind.

Besides, Derek was the most  _ gorgeous _ person Stiles had ever seen. Half of the school was tripping over themselves in an infatuated stupor, completely enamored with him.

He was tall and muscular, for all of his nerdiness a star player on the school basketball team, with a hint of devastatingly handsome stubble on his chiseled jawline, making his high well-defined cheekbones stand out more. Behind his thick glasses were the most amazing pair of nebulous hazel eyes in all of existence, the greens and browns in his irises always shifting and swirling.

Meanwhile, Stiles was just some pale scrawny kid covered in moles. Not the most attractive considering the fact that he went to school with people who could make a living off being models.

So, he kept his little notes anonymous, figuring that he would get to avoid outright rejection if Derek was upset or disgusted when he found the notes. He didn’t want to be too optimistic.

Each morning after leaving a new note for Derek to find, Stiles would linger by his own locker to watch what happened when the object of his affections discovered the little notes. Derek usually just smiled to himself, a light blush coloring his cheeks, and tucked the notes into his bookbag, apparently keeping them much to Stiles’ utter delight. 

But that day was different.

That morning Derek had arrived at his locker with his three best friends ― Erica, Isaac, and Boyd ― in tow, all of whom were quick to urge him to check for a new Valentine’s note, actually bouncing on the balls of their feet in anticipation. The mere fact that Derek had actually told his friends about the notes made Stiles’ stomach fill with a frenzy of butterflies.

Derek had opened his locker with a roll of his eyes, Stiles discreetly peeking at him around the door of his own locker, hoping none of Derek’s friends noticed his blatant eavesdropping. That wouldn’t end well. Opening his locker door, Derek plucked the pale pink envelope off of a stack of books, brandishing it proudly for his friends to see, all of them smiling widely up at it.

Derek opened it without any preamble, peeling off the heart shaped sticker that Stiles had used to seal the envelope and carefully tugging the card out to show off. Setting the empty envelope aside, Derek turned his attention to the handwritten card, tracing his thumb over the colorful illustrations Stiles had included on the front. Flipping the card open, he read the little poem aloud, “‘Yoda is green, Max Rebo is blue, I like Star Wars a little less than I like you.’”

“Oh my god, that’s adorable,” Erica announced with a wide beaming grin, moving to peer over Derek’s shoulder at the words Stiles had painstakingly inked in the iconic Star Wars font the night before. His hand still ached from all the times he had messed up and had to start over. With a wave of her hand, glittery gold nails glinting under the hallway lights, Erica beckoned Boyd and Isaac over, insisting, “C’mon, you guys have to see this!”

Isaac was the first to take a few steps closer, scanning his eyes over the carefully constructed card, lips quirking up into a crooked smirk. Cocking his head to the side like a floppy-eared little puppy, he wondered aloud, “So, who do ya think it’s from?”

Stiles held his breath. It was the moment of truth. Derek was going to say his name and either make his whole year or completely shatter his dreams. Tightening his grip on the door his locker, he listened carefully.

“The new girl. Kira.”

_ What?!  _ Stiles nearly keeled over at Derek’s horrible, horrible guess, coming dangerously close to groaning aloud. He had the sudden urge to bang his head against his locker door, only barely managing to refrain, biting his tongue to keep from blurting out a confession.

But he just couldn’t hold back when Derek shrugged and turned to his friends, inquiring, “Think I should ask her out?”

“Are you kidding me?!” Stiles demanded out of pure frustration, slamming his locker door shut and spinning to face Derek who blinked at him in surprise, mouth hanging open in a perfect  _ o _ . Behind Derek, his trio of friends gaped at Stiles too, all four of them looking positively shocked as he pointed a finger at Derek’s chest, barking, “Are you serious, right now?! Kira?!”

Shaking himself from his stupor, curls bouncing, Isaac narrowed his blue eyes and folded his arms over his chest, raising his chin defiantly. Pinning Stiles with a disdainful glare, he scoffed and snapped, “The hell’s your problem, Stilinski? Jealous?”

“No, I’m just―” he paused, running both hands through his hair with a deep, defeated sigh “—I put a lot of work into them,” Stiles admitted, deflating a bit, his shoulders slumping as he turned to look down at his shoes. With a lazy shrug, he scratched the back of his wrist and mumbled, “I just… I was hoping you’d realize they were from me.”

Feeling even more like a pathetic loser than he usually did, Stiles hunched in on himself, bracing for Derek’s inevitable rejection. Rather than just wait for Derek to tell him to scram, to leave him alone, to never talk to him again, Stiles murmured, “I’m sorry. Just forget about it. I’ll leave you alone.”

He turned around, just wanting to scamper off to class with his tail tucked between his legs, sure that once he left, Derek and his friends would all laugh about how utterly pathetic he was. But as he twisted, he felt a hand curl around his wrist keeping him in place. He froze in his tracks.

Turning back around, he saw that it was Derek who had gently stopped him in the middle of his flight, a soft smile on his lips. Dimples showing, Derek looked down at their somewhat joined hands, inquiring, “So, you’re the one who’s been leaving me these?”

“Yeah,” Stiles confirmed, nodding to himself as he traced his eyes over Derek’s forearm, feeling all warm and fuzzy just from the innocent touch of Derek’s hand on his skin. After a moment of silence, he belatedly tacked on, “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Derek advised, Stiles’ eyes snapping up to meet Derek’s, thoroughly confused. With a crooked, somewhat mischievous grin, Derek clarified, “I love them. Thank you.”

Stiles was shocked by Derek’s confession, but he was even more shocked when Derek leaned in closer and continued on, suggesting, “So… Lord of the Rings marathon at my place this weekend? Around five?—” he waited for Stiles to nod, flabbergasted “—And you might wanna bring a change of clothes. You might have to stay the night. They’re long movies, after all.”

Stiles’ jaw dropped at the innuendo saturating Derek’s words. And then, just like that, Derek turned on his heel and walked away towards his first class, leaving Stiles to process that he had just been asked out by his crush of three years. Forget about being a jock or not, if he had a chance to be Derek’s boyfriend, he could care less.

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on tumblr [here](http://hale-of-stiles-heart.tumblr.com/)!


End file.
